


A Little Secret

by EventHorizon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is acting a bit suspiciously and Martin is determined to find out why...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> John Finnemore's bit in _Spats_ was wonderful, but some of his expressions reminded me of Arthur Shappey trying to be a tad sneaky. [See what I mean...](http://eventhorizon451.tumblr.com/post/61350188520/john-finnemores-bit-in-spats-was-wonderful-but)

      “Arthur?”

      “Ummmmm…. yes?”

      “May I ask what you’re doing?”

      “Ummmmm…. yes?”

      “That wasn’t a very confident _yes_.”

      “Sorry, Skip.  I’ll give my _yes_ twice the confidence next time to make up for this one.”

      “I’d prefer we stick to this one for now, if you don’t mind.  And since even an unconfident _yes_ is still a _yes_ , I’m waiting for my answer.”

      “Oh… well… it’s nothing really.  Why don’t you go back to reading and I’ll just get back to… whatever it is I’m doing.”

Martin learned long ago that when Arthur was in their kitchen, it was wise to peek in first so the door could act as a shield in the event of an unexpected, though not altogether uncommon, flurry of airborne ingredients.  This time there was no flying batter or trapeze-like courgettes, but he wasn’t going to take any chances just yet and remained mostly concealed behind the comforting solidity of the large piece of wood.

      “May I have a clue?”

      “Oh, like in Charades!  But you haven’t even made a single guess yet, so I can’t give you a clue.  That would be cheating.”

      “Arthur, we’re not actually playing Charades.  I’m only trying to find out what you’ve been doing in here doing for the past three hours.”

      “Well… I’d say a bit of this and that.”

      “You know, you’re getting much better at hiding things without precisely telling a lie.”

      “Brilliant!  That’s very nice of you to say, Skip.  I do try to get better with things, even when it takes getting worse first to actually get better like when I learned to knit.  I did alright at first when I just sort of used my fingers to make things, but then I started with the needles and…. well, blood is rather difficult to get out of yarn… but I kept at it and now you’ve got lots of hats and scarves and almost not a one has any blood on it!”

      “And they’re all very lovely, but if we can get back to the here and now…”

      “Oh… I’d rather thought you’d forgotten about that.”

      “It would be difficult since I’m still watching you try not to look at me because I know it’s harder for you to be sneaky when you’re looking at someone than when you’re not.”

      “That _is_ true.  You’re quite smart, Skip, which is why I love you, well… one of the reasons I love you… but sometimes you being smart makes it very difficult to be sneaky.”

      “Then maybe you should stop trying to be sneaky with me and simply explain what it is you’re doing.  You know you’re happier when there are fewer sneaky things going on anyway.”

      “That is _also_ true, but I think this one time being sneaky is what I have to do.”

      “Quite a strong statement, Arthur Shappey.  Siding with the sneakies of this world is not really what I expect from you.”

      “Oh… you’re right.  But I really _need_ to.  But… the sneakies aren’t the nicest of people and I really don’t want to be put on a list with them because then someone might make me wear a name badge and I do _not_ want to walk around with ‘Hi, I’m Arthur!  I’m a sneaky!’ pinned to my shirt.”

      “No, no one wants that.  So just tell me what you’re doing and you won’t have to worry about any pesky name badges or lists.”

      “I suppose you’re right.  You might as well come in then.”

Martin slowly walked into the kitchen, still on alert for attacks by wayward foodstuffs and finally got a good view of the counter in front of Arthur.

      “Eggs, flour, sugar, milk… that’s the special vanilla you ordered from that baking catalog.  With the two, no three, cake forms over there, I think you, Arthur Shappey, are baking a cake.”

      “That’s amazing!  You really are smart, Skip.  Well done!”

      “Thank you, love.  Now, the two things I can’t guess are (1) why you’re baking a cake and (2) why you’re being sneaky about it.”

      “Well… I’m not so much baking a cake as trying to get it _right_ at baking a cake.  You might not remember, but my history with cakes is, in fact, not a very good one.”

      “Yes, that does ring a bell.  So, you’re perfecting your technique?”

      “Yes!  This one has to be perfect, so I’m practicing.  The first one I made this morning was a bit…hard… which was quite a change from my last try when we flew to Helsinki, but the birds seemed to be happy eating it when I took the hammer to it and put the… splinters… out under the tree.  So, I was going to do it again and maybe try a real recipe this time.  I was just about turn on the fan so I could blow the nice cake smell out the window when you popped your head in.”

      “Very clever of you.  Really, I’m quite impressed.  Now, we have a partial answer to my first question but the second one’s still waiting its turn.”

      “Oh… must I?”

      “I think, Arthur, that you must.  We have officially arrived at the must point.”

      “Well, if you’re sure…. here.”

The steward opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it over to Martin for inspection.

      “Arthur, this is my pilot’s exam results.  The last set, that is.”

      “Yeah.”

      “I find that my curiosity is not satisfied.”

Arthur reached over and tapped at the top corner.

      “Oh.  _Oh_.”

      “Tomorrow’s the day you passed!  Well, the anniversary of the day you passed.  It’s an important day and I wanted you to have a nice cake to go along with the special dinner I was going to make.  And I made you a special hat to go with the special hat I made myself and… it was going to be a surprise, but I guess it can’t be anymore, can it?”

Martin stared at Arthur, who was fiddling with the spoon in his hand and wondered how in the world he had found someone so special in this life.

      “You knew the date I passed my exam?  I don’t, or didn’t, even know that!”

      “I know lots of dates.  The date you first started with MJN and the date of your first flight.  The dates of all the very big things that happened on our flights.  The date you first asked me out on a… well, on a date.  The date we were driving by here and saw it was for lease and I said it was a brilliant little house and you agreed and said it was a bit big for one person and I said it was perfect for two and you agreed and then I asked if you might consider being the second person to my one person and live in this little house with me and you said yes.  And I remember the date we moved in and started being more than people who dated each other because we were people _living_ with each other and that’s the most brilliant thing ever!”

The spoon was gently removed from Arthur’s hands and Martin placed those hands on his hips, while he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and leaned in to give the taller man a kiss.

      “I am stunned, Arthur.  I am really and truly stunned that you can remember all of that.  And, no, it may not be a surprise now, but I am thrilled, absolutely thrilled that you’re going to all this trouble for me.  How does this sound?  I’ll pour us a glass of that very sweet wine you like and we can sit under a blanket on the sofa and go through your recipe books together to find the very best cake recipe.  I’ll even help you make it!  You’ll have to show me what to do, because I don’t have your cooking skills, but I can measure or stir or whatever you want me to do to be useful.  And if we eat all the cake today then we can make another one tomorrow for our little celebration.  Will that be as good as a surprise?”

Not that Martin needed an answer.  Arthur’s face was bright and beaming and the sparkle in his eyes was exactly the one he got when the toy shop in town got in a new game.

      “That’s… Brilliant!  What a super idea!  This is better than a surprise because we can do it together and doing things together is always better than doing things alone.  I am the luckiest man in the world because I’ve got you, Skip!  I’ll get my books and meet you on the sofa.”

Arthur dashed to the other side of the kitchen and started going through his countless recipe books, while Martin got a bottle of the fruit medley-flavored wine Arthur adored.  Two glasses in hand and he started towards the kitchen door, stopping to take a last look at his giggling partner.  Who was wrong, of course.  Utterly wrong.  _He_ was the luckiest man in the world and would do everything he could to hold on to that luck for the rest of his life.


End file.
